


Midnight Seduction

by Saras_Girl



Series: Turn!verse [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 05:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saras_Girl/pseuds/Saras_Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Ginny sleeps, Blaise enjoys some time with his newest purchase.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Seduction

Blaise creeps up the final few stairs and walks with a practised soft step across the landing towards the bedroom. He waits at the door, tingling with anticipation and guilt as he assures himself that his wife is sleeping. Ah, yes—he can just about make out the rise and fall of her chest as she lies on her side with one arm tucked beneath her pillow, and every now and then she releases a soft little snore into the cool air of the bedroom. She makes for a rather arresting sight, flame-coloured hair fanned out across the bed linen, gentle curves caressed by soft, white cotton, and for a terrible moment, Blaise wonders if he should reconsider his plans. He knows how she hates it when he lies there next to her and... does that.  
  
But goodness, he just wants it so much and he’s been waiting for this, looking forward to it all day.  
  
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, old bean,” he mumbles to himself, fingers closing tightly around the items in his hands, and though he does feel the keen prickle of shame in his chest, he isn’t at all surprised when he gives in.  
  
As carefully as he can, he lowers his weight onto the bed, holding his breath as he shifts onto his side with his back to Ginny and pulls his feet up onto the bed. She doesn’t stir.  
  
Blaise grins. He sets down the items and reaches into his bedside drawer, wrapping his fingers around the cold, satisfyingly heavy metal object that lies just hidden under a roll of parchment and a stray piece of Cockroach Cluster. Quietly, he picks up the heavy glass jar from the mattress and eases off the lid, listening to the soft _pop_ and smothering a sigh of pleasure. As he listens for Ginny’s breathing again, his eyes stray to the small wrapped package beside him, but he resists, knowing that delayed gratification is always far sweeter, even if it sometimes seems near-impossible.  
  
Flicking out his tongue to swipe across his dry bottom lip, he runs his fingertip around the soft, slippery substance inside the jar and is almost lost. She is going to have him skinned if he gets any of this on the sheets, but without it... Blaise grimaces and wipes his fingers on a handkerchief. Without it, the whole thing becomes, at best, dry and at worst, simply unpleasant.  
  
Beside him, Ginny mumbles in her sleep and he is momentarily distracted as he wonders just what she is dreaming about. If he knows his wife—and he thinks he does—it will be something very odd indeed.  
  
Finally, heart pounding with the illicit joy of it, Blaise strips down to his underwear and settles himself beneath the sheets to open the package. Taking care to be as quiet as he can, he peels away the wax paper and grins with delight as the leaf-wrapping becomes visible. It’s beautiful. For a moment, he looks at it and thinks regretfully of the whole wheel he had seen advertised in that trade magazine, but knows all too well that Ginny would have noticed a purchase of that size and his secret would have been up before he’d even had a chance to enjoy it.  
  
Besides, it’s a splendid-sized piece, and he can barely wait to sink his special knife into it. It cuts like a dream and smells ripe, tangy and delicious. Beaming down at his prize, he eases a large chunk away from the slice, spreads softened butter over one of his favourite water crackers and reverently places the cheese on top.  
  
“How wonderful that we meet at last,” he murmurs, sinking his teeth through cheese, butter and cracker and closing his eyes as his palate lights up with pure joy.  
  
“Blaise?” Ginny mumbles, with apparently no regard for the rapture he is currently experiencing.  
  
He swallows quickly and licks the crumbs from his lips before turning to her. “Yes, lovely?”  
  
“Don’t lovely me,” she says, opening her eyes and frowning up at him. “Has something died in here or are you eating fucking cheese in bed _again_?”  
  
Heart sinking, Blaise sets down his half-eaten snack and shuffles around to face her. “Well, I think you’ll be relieved to know that we aren’t sharing our bedroom with anything deceased.”  
  
Ginny snorts. “Are you sure? It smells like we might be.”  
  
“Ginny!” he objects, wounded on behalf of his beautiful Valdéon. He turns and scoops up the piece still in the wax paper, waving it in Ginny’s face. “You can’t say that. This cheese is made from the very best cow’s and sheep’s milk... it is complex and distinctive... it comes wrapped in sycamore leaves, for goodness’ sake! Look!”  
  
Ginny wrinkles her nose and draws away from the Valdéon. “I can see it, Blaise. I can smell it. I can also feel the crumbs you’re getting everywhere.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Blaise says, withdrawing the cheese and setting it back down on his side of the bed. Ginny looks rather cross and he knows how upset she gets about the crumbs. The thrill of his illicit pleasure has now dissipated and he is awash with regret for his cavalier attitude towards his wife’s need for sleep. “I didn’t mean to wake you up. I was just a little bit overexcited.”  
  
Ginny flops back onto her pillow and laughs, eyes closing from a moment. “Only you could get overexcited about a midnight snack,” she says, voice softer now.  
  
“It’s not just any midnight snack,” he points out. “This is a very nice cheese.”  
  
“It had better be, considering it woke me up when I was having that brilliant dream again...”  
  
“The one about the goblins?” he asks, licking a spot of butter from his thumb.  
  
Ginny smiles wearily. “No. The one where you do all the housework in nothing but that little apron.”  
  
Relieved, Blaise strokes her hair back from her face with his clean hand. “I think that can be arranged,” he says, as he does so wondering if he can still get into the pinnie; the last time he wore it was well before Christmas and his waistline has definitely expanded since then.  
  
“In that case, I’ll forgive you,” Ginny says, turning her face against his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm. She closes her eyes and Blaise watches her for a moment, allowing himself to be startled yet again by the fact that this wonderful woman chooses to put up with him.  
  
“Blaise?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
Ginny smiles. “Go on, then, stick some of your fancy cheese on a cracker for me.”


End file.
